


the paternal adventures of adrien agreste

by antebunny



Category: Miraculous Ladybug, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover, Daddy Issues, Father-Son Relationship, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Fusion, Gen, Identity Porn, OOC Adrien, Parent Darth Vader, Secret Identity, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:54:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24417712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antebunny/pseuds/antebunny
Summary: So this akuma supposedly sent Adrien to a fantasy world where he would learn a previously overlooked secret of his real life, but instead he's Luke Skywalker in the Star Wars universe, getting chased around by Darth Vader. And what does the villain being his father have to do with anything? Nothing.If Adrien ever figures out who Hawkmoth is, they're going to have words.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Plagg, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader
Comments: 15
Kudos: 64





	the paternal adventures of adrien agreste

**Author's Note:**

> alternative title: cursed story that i swore to never write
> 
> credit to:  
> 1\. my sister for this terrible idea  
> 2\. BrightblueSkies for making me write this

In retrospect, Adrien should have known that their battle against an akuma that could send people into other _worlds_ was going far too well. 

At first, he and Ladybug had thought the akuma–Princess Protagonist or something–was simply making things disappear. They were disabused of this notion when Princess Protagonist, officially the first akuma to ever look like a Disney princess, started speaking. The akumatized item was a book, which the akuma was ripping pages out of and flicking at alarming speeds. The akuma itself was one of those aggressively benevolent ones (possibly Rose’s little sister, based on…well, everything) that apparently wanted to send everybody into a fantasy world of their choosing. Adrien wasn’t clear on how the whole “their choosing” part worked, but he wasn’t keen to figure out.

The battle had moved, as akuma battles were wont to do, to the Eiffel Tower. Since this was the expected direction for the battle to take, the tower had been evacuated by the time Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Princess Protagonist actually got there. Which left just the three of them, at four in the afternoon, to duke it out in the empty Eiffel Tower. Adrien was very familiar with the Eiffel Tower at this point, given the sheer number of times he’d been thrown around it, and so it was with great confidence that he swung himself around the metal bars, mentally preparing his next couple of puns (they came naturally, of course, but the greatest works of art took effort and preparation). 

“So, _purr_ incess,” Adrien called out. He broke into a run, trying to distract Princess Protagonist from Ladybug, who was holding a bottle of glitter. He was confident that she would figure out what to do with it, and it was his job to give her enough time to. “How does this choosing work exactly? Do I get to pick the world? Because in that case–”

“Wouldn’t you like to know!” Princess Protagonist declared. Her pages glittered with gold, so bright that Adrien was forced to look away from them. 

Adrien literally bounced off the walls in his increasingly harried attempts to avoid Princess Protagonist’s book pages. The akuma stood daintily at the very top of the Eiffel Tower, sending pages down at Chat Noir, who threw himself into an elaborate spin around the tower to avoid her latest volley. Ladybug hung inside the tower by her yoyo string, looking around for something that would explain why she needed a bottle of glitter. Adrien saw a flash of gold out of the corner of his eye and immediately dropped down, lest he get hit by one of Princess Protagonist’s sparkly magical pages.

“ _Purr_ haps you could entertain this curious cat,” Adrien snarked as he swung himself through the Eiffel Tower and came up behind the akuma. Actually, he and Ladybug had already seen a person get hit by one of the pages; a mother with a baby in a stroller that hadn’t been able to get out of the way fast enough. She’d miraculously returned two seconds later, saying that somehow she’d become Elizabeth Bennet from _Pride and Prejudice,_ and now she wasn’t so sure that her boyfriend had been cheating on her.

“Your heart decides where you must go,” Princess Protagonist began, and Adrien promptly tuned her out. Behind the akuma, he could see Ladybug’s face light up with understanding, holding her glitter bottle in a new light. Sure that the battle was nearing its end, Adrien launched himself in one final attack against Princess Protagonist.

Then the Eiffel Tower disappeared. 

Adrien didn’t even get a chance to see the page that hit the tower, because he was suddenly freefalling approximately 980 feet above the ground. His baton flailed wildly in the air, and the last thing he saw was Ladybug’s horrified face before one of Princess Protagonist’s sparkly pages hit Adrien right in the stomach. Paris’ skyline vanished from view.

Adrien sat up. He knew immediately what must have happened when his fingers touched a cold metal surface. He looked down and saw that he was still Chat Noir. His ring was still on his fingers, and his baton was rolling away from him across the floor. He scrambled after it before it could get more than two feet from him. He stood unsteadily, and his vision focused on a sterile gray hallway. The walls were plain, but they had a strange, sci-fi design. _Well, that’s great,_ he thought. Adrien had spent years locked in his room with all the entertainment money could buy. He knew _all_ the sci-fi. And all the anime. And basically everything, really, if it weren’t for the content restrictions his father had put on everything. The question was: which sci-fi was he in? 

The answer became immediately obvious when two stormtroopers passed by at the end of the hallway. Fortunately, they didn’t see him, because Adrien was standing there like an idiot, jaw trailing vaguely on the floor. 

_Oh my god,_ Adrien realized with undeniable glee, _I’m in Star Wars._ He rubbed his eyes and stared at the end of the hallway where the stormtroopers had just passed by. Okay. Focus, Chat Noir. Ladybug was mere moments away from capturing the akuma. Wait. That meant that Adrien could do whatever he wanted and it wouldn’t matter because as soon as Ladybug captured the akuma, he’d be back in Paris like no time had passed. He had free reign of the _entire Star Wars universe_ for as long as the akuma would allow. 

_Calm down, Chat Noir,_ Adrien told himself firmly, before he started jumping up and down in excitement. The stormtroopers indicated that he was sometime after the Revenge of the Sith, but before the Return of the Jedi. Was he a character? 

“Plagg, claws in,” Adrien said, and a knot of fear completely fell away when the transformation fell and his kwami popped into existence in front of him. “Oh, thank god.”

Plagg spun around in a circle. “Adrien, what did you do?” 

“Nothing!”

“Uh-huh,” the kwami said skeptically. “Then mind explaining where we are, because never in my thousands of years of existence have I seen a place like _this.”_

“It’s the akuma’s fault!”

“ _Adrien._ ”

Adrien’s eyes went wide at another realization. “Wait. This means I get to use the _space cheese._ ”

“Adrien. No.”

“Adrien yes!” He grinned and pulled out a slice of purple cheese, the type that normally would have him gagging and throwing it as far away from him as possible.

Plagg quailed, clearly in conflict over getting his paws on that cheese and making sure Adrien knew what he was getting into. “Adrien, are you sure you know what you’re doing–”

“Absolutely! Plagg, power up!” Adrien tossed the cheese in the air, unwilling to spend one more second touching it.

“ _Fine_ ,” Plagg declared dramatically. He darted over to the falling cheese and devoured it like a void monster. The little god sighed dreamily. “Ladybug has the best cheese–”

“Astro Plagg, claws out!”

Seconds later, an excited Chat Noir, with white spots trailing his black catsuit in little starbursts, was bounding down the hallway after the stormtroopers. He didn’t know what sort of Imperial building this was, but he would bet anything that it was the Death Star. At least he hoped it was. Everything exciting happened on the Death Star. 

Adrien skidded to a stop after just one hallway. He looked left. The corridor opened up to a massive hangar. Blaster fire rang across the wide space. Right in the center of the hangar was the Millenium Falcon, and closing in on it were several stormtroopers. One fell, and Adrien’s attention was brought to the figure leaning out of the Falcon’s entrance: Princess Leia, the original Carrie Fisher version. 

Leia aimed at another stormtrooper, hit her target, and pulled back from the doorway. She looked directly at Adrien. “Come on, let’s go!”

What? Adrien might have watched the movies a couple of times, but he was pretty sure that didn’t translate to knowing Leia Organa. Adrien heard stormtrooper footsteps behind him, and spun around. His baton lengthened into quarterstaff length just in time to deflect a shot from a stormtrooper. His eyes widened when he realized that there were three stormtroopers, all about to try and shoot him. The first shot hit the floor by the feet of the stormtrooper that shot at him, who took a step back. 

“There’s another rebel,” the stormtrooper said. “This one’s got a lightsaber.”

Lightsaber? Adrien deflected two more shots, spun his baton, and advanced. He still didn’t understand why he’d been put in Star Wars, but that did answer one question. He aimed his first strike for their blasters, just in case his baton was secretly a lightsaber and could cut through people. When all it did was knock the blaster across the hallway, Adrien promptly changed his strategy. He thrust his baton like a fencing blade, and watched as it elongated straight into the chest of the middle stormtrooper, making his shot go wide. The blast hit the ceiling behind Adrien, and the third stormtrooper backed up, keeping Adrien out of range. That distance quickly closed when Adrien repeated his previous trick and jabbed the stormtrooper right beneath his helmet, knocking him off his feet. He shrunk his baton to the size of a quarterstaff again and swung it backwards, right into the head of the first stormtrooper, who had recovered his blaster.

“Wait,” Adrien said. He straightened up, panting. The other two stormtroopers did the same. “Am I Luke Skywalker?”

He darted out of the hallway fifteen seconds later, leaving the three stormtroopers on the floor. He planned on heading to the Millenium Falcon, but then he looked right and skidded to a stop. Over the cacophony of violence and noise echoing around the hangar, he heard a very distinctive hum. On the other side of an entrance out of the hangar, Darth Vader’s lightsaber hummed in that low pitch thousands of fans tried to imitate. Chat Noir’s eyes focused on a nondescript pile of brown robes on the floor. _Obi-Wan Kenobi just died,_ Adrien realized. He stood gaping at Darth Vader, who was nudging the pile of robes as if he expected Kenobi to just reappear. 

“Luke, it’s too late!” Leia was disappearing up the ramp when Adrien finally looked away from Darth Vader. Han fired back at the stormtroopers, but he clearly shared Leia’s sentiment.

“Blast the door, kid!” Han yelled.

Except Adrien didn’t have a blaster, and even if he did he wouldn’t know how to fire it, much less what to hit. Threepio and Artoo disappeared up the landing ramp, followed by Chewie and Leia. Darth Vader finally stopped his obsession with Kenobi and stepped through the door that Luke had failed to close. 

“Just go!” Adrien yelled back, pulling his baton from his belt again. “I’ll be fine.” He broke into a sprint, letting his baton become the length of a lightsaber again. One stormtrooper stopped firing at Han long enough to fire at him, but Adrien deflected the shot easily and then jumped at the stormtrooper. Both of his feet landed square on the stormtrooper’s chest, and he fell over while Adrien landed on his feet. 

Han did a double take when he saw the baton, clearly seeing a lightsaber as well, and looked like he wanted to argue, but finally he disengaged and disappeared up the ramp. The stormtroopers finally stopped firing when the Millenium Falcon began to take off, which left just Adrien alone in the Death Star with a couple of stormtroopers. And Darth Vader.

Adrien gulped when he heard the iconic heavy mechanical breathing that was also imitated by thousands of fans. He turned, spinning his baton in a circle, and then took a step back when his eyes traveled up a full foot to properly look at Darth Vader. He was so much taller in person. And terrifying.

Except. _Oh my god._ “I’m Luke Skywalker,” Adrien blurted. Leia had directly called him Luke, and he had a lightsaber apparently, and it just made sense to be the main character. All evidence pointed to him being Luke Skywalker. Except that meant that _Darth Vader was his father._

“What did you say?” Darth Vader asked dangerously. He raised his empty hand.

Shit. “Nothing!” Adrien squeaked. But he knew that when Darth Vader raised his empty hand, he was about to Force choke someone, and Adrien had both no desire to be choked to death in a fantasy world and no way of stopping Darth Vader from Force choking him. So he took the only logical course of action and ran directly at Darth Vader. 

On the plus side, Darth Vader lowered his hand and raised his lightsaber. Adrien and his baton bounced off, which he was grateful for since his plan didn’t go further than _don’t get choked to death._ Adrien slid backwards. He stood up with a good meter of distance between him and the terrifying Sith Lord that was apparently now his father. On the down side, he now had no plan. 

The remaining stormtroopers readied their blasters, but Darth Vader waved them off. They backed off, leaving Adrien–Luke–to face his father alone.

“You are Luke Skywalker?” Darth Vader demanded.

Right, he was still hung up over that. “Search your feelings,” Adrien improvised quickly. “You know it to be true.” 

Then he ran. Adrien might be better prepared than Luke had been to face Darth Vader, given that he was a superhero in real life, but he was so not prepared to fight Darth Vader, emotionally or physically. So he turned and high-tailed it for the hangar bay exit, the one that led directly into space. That, at least, was one advantage he had over Darth Vader and the real Luke Skywalker; a space cheese-enhanced superhero suit that would let him survive in space.

“There is nowhere to run,” Darth Vader intoned from behind him. He obviously wasn’t bothering to run after him, which Adrien was decidedly grateful for. The stormtroopers were lining up around the hangar, and Adrien had to admit that if he was, in fact, Luke Skywalker, he would have nowhere to run. Instead, Adrien ran even faster, ignoring the frisson of fear that ran down his spine. He pitied Luke Skywalker more by the second. Having Darth Vader as your father might be cool in theory, but the only advantage it gave Adrien now was a severe case of panic.

 _That’s something Princess Protagonist got wrong,_ Adrien thought. He crossed the space where the Millenium Falcon had been, but the stormtroopers still didn’t shoot at him. How was Darth Vader being his father supposed to tell him anything about real life? It wasn’t like his _real_ father was Hawkmoth. Admittedly, the day that Ladybug approached him with her theory on why Gabriel Agreste must be Hawkmoth was one of the worst days of his life, but then his father had gotten akumatized, and they’d dropped it. After all, Hawkmoth couldn’t akumatize himself, could he?

Could he? 

Adrien’s step almost faltered as he actually stopped to think about what he was doing in Star Wars. It wasn’t his favorite movie. He’d only watched the prequels once and _never again,_ and he’d never seen the sequels or any of the spin-offs. He hadn’t been thinking about it when Princess Protagonist finally got him, and from what he and Ladybug had gathered, he was supposed to learn something about real life that he wouldn’t have considered otherwise. He hoped it didn’t have anything to do with Ladybug’s identity, because then the implication would be that Ladybug was actually his long-lost twin sister, and that was too horrifying to think about. Moreover, he and Ladybug had decided to keep their identities secret for a reason, and Adrien didn’t want to be in a fantasy world that would somehow ruin that for him. 

So if he wasn’t here to realize some world-changing secret about Ladybug, then what was he doing here? 

It was almost a relief when Adrien finally crossed the last three feet to the end of the hangar, and yeeted himself into space.

The vacuum of space hit him hard, but at least he didn’t die. Almost immediately after he passed the boundary, a blanket of cold air enveloped him. Adrien didn’t know what he’d expected space to be like, but cold wasn’t one of them. He lost momentum quickly, and all at once. He tried to breathe, which was really the ultimate test, since by all the laws of physics the much lower pressure of space should have at least damaged his lungs. When he breathed in without dying and exhaled again, Adrien figured that his magic space suit was somehow doing its job and decided not to question it. The next test came when Adrien tried to move, and he passed that one easily when he began slowly but effectively paddling through space. He considered briefly how this also made no logical sense, as there was nothing in space for him to push off of, and therefore nothing that should let him move. He chose again to be grateful for his magic suit and not question it, and continued swimming in space.

For a minute, Adrien really thought it would work out. He would paddle away from the hangar, and by the time anyone could get in a TIE fighter to chase him down, he’d be back in Paris. Ladybug would fix everything, and that time Adrien ran around the Death Star like a headless chicken would be just a funny story that only he and Plagg would know. 

Then it all went to hell in a handbasket. 

First, Adrien only made it a few steps before the stormtroopers realized that Adrien wasn’t dying and started firing at him, clearly trying to correct his failure to die. Second, Darth Vader had moved a lot faster than Adrien had anticipated, given that he never moved faster than a dramatic stride. Third, Adrien hadn’t bothered to run to the side of the hangar, because he hadn’t anticipated how slowly he would move in space, and thus he was still two meters from getting himself out of range when Darth Vader arrived. Adrien promptly proceeded to panic, but all his attempts to get away were negated when Vader simply raised a hand and used the Force.

 _That’s cheating,_ Adrien thought mulishly as he was pulled back through the hangar door. He wouldn’t mind it nearly as much if he could use it as well, but even if he had Luke’s current abilities, he still wouldn’t be able to do anything. The station’s artificial gravity took hold and Adrien landed on his side. Seeing as the Sith could clearly drag him back if he tried to escape the Death Star again, Adrien’s only choice of action was running back through the hangar and then losing Darth Vader in the station, and _then_ escaping into space. 

But first he had to get past Darth Vader.

Adrien sprang up and immediately realized the obvious hole in that plan. The dozen stormtroopers than had been left in the hangar had now spread out on his left and right, keeping a distance that would be reasonable if Adrien’s baton couldn’t span the length of the hangar if he so wished. They kept their blasters trained on Adrien, but somehow he doubted that they would actually manage to hit him. 

Behind him, space waited. In front of him, Darth Vader loomed. Adrien gulped and wondered how Luke ever managed to see a potential father figure in the lightsaber-wielding behemoth in front of him. All Adrien could see was a black-themed Hawkmoth. Adrien wondered whether it was worth making cat puns without Ladybug there. Maybe he could break Darth Vader with a _purr_ fectly timed cat pan. Or maybe it would go right over his head. 

Adrien wished Ladybug was here. He was cornered, but several akumas had managed that in the past. What they’d never managed to do was get rid of Ladybug. But this time, Adrien was completely alone in a fantasy world. Someone must have called for backup, because more stormtroopers were slowly arriving in the hangar. This situation couldn’t possibly get worse.

“Give up,” Darth Vader ordered. “Your allies have abandoned you. You are surrounded. You are alone.”

Adrien rescinded his previous statement and decided that it was time to get out of here. Unlike Luke Skywalker, the black cat kwami gave Adrien the ability to jump almost two stories from standing. He used that to his advantage and jumped over Darth Vader, escaping the lines of stormtroopers. He landed on both feet, left hand on the ground for balance. He stood up and turned around just in time to shriek like a little girl and barely avoid getting sliced in half by Darth Vader. 

He tried to get a chance to jump away, but Darth Vader kept up a brutally fast lightsaber duel that Adrien was poorly prepared to counter. As Chat Noir, he was far more used to using his surroundings as part of his fight, which meant hiding behind walls, launching himself off buildings, and occasionally bringing down the Eiffel Tower when the situation required it. He didn’t really use his baton to fight people. Fencing was also nothing like Darth Vader’s preferred style of fighting. So Adrien was hard-pressed to keep up with his onslaught. He was faster, but Darth Vader was stronger, and he also had the advantage of height. It really was like fighting Hawkmoth. Except Darth Vader didn’t want his miraculous, and he was under the impression that Adrien was his son. All of which was not applicable to the real Hawkmoth. 

His lightsaber thrummed against Adrien’s baton, making his arms shake. The stormtroopers quickly scrambled to surround them, but they hesitated to fire; they couldn’t fire without firing at Vader as well.

“Hold your fire,” Darth Vader commanded. “I want him alive.”

That maybe would’ve been comforting, except Adrien was aware that Vader cut off Luke’s hand in the heat of battle, and while he’d rather be limbless than dead, he didn’t want to be forced to pick. Adrien was liking this less and less. He struggled to keep up with Darth Vader’s blows, but he couldn’t back up without running into the stormtroopers. 

Adrien blocked a blow from above, then twisted his baton to the left when Vader tried to attack him from a different angle. Adrien stepped right and flicked his baton past Vader’s nonexistent defense. He extended his baton instead of lunging, but the blow did little more than poke Vader in the chest. “How about we talk about this?” Adrien tried. 

“Indeed,” Darth Vader rumbled. He knocked Adrien’s baton out of the way and continued attacking. “Who trained you? Was it Kenobi?”

“No,” Adrien answered truthfully. He held his baton vertically like a staff to counter a blow headed for his midsection. “I’m self-taught.”

He tried to push Vader’s lightsaber up, throwing all of his force into flicking his baton up, but the lightsaber simply refused to move. Vader pressed forwards instead, and Adrien found himself forced to back up under the pressure. What exactly was his plan? If his lightsaber went through, it would cut Adrien in half. That generally wasn’t a great way to keep someone alive. 

Then Vader lunged forwards so fast Adrien tripped over his own feet and fell. He rolled to the side, caught a brief glimpse of a red lightsaber tearing through the metal floor Adrien had been laying on just a second ago, and then he rolled into the boots of a stormtrooper. 

Adrien flailed wildly when an armored hand grabbed his ankle. His baton caught the stormtrooper above him in the face. He twisted onto his stomach, placed his left hand on the ground, and lashed out with his foot. He successfully shook the hand off his foot, but when he stood up he was surrounded. The stormtroopers weren’t holding their blasters anymore, clearly taking the “take him alive” part seriously, but that didn’t stop them from practically piling on top of Adrien. He made his baton the length of a streetlight pole and spun it around. Some stormtroopers ducked. Others didn’t. Adrien used the momentary lull to hold his baton vertically again. He set the end on the ground and then extended it quickly, letting it carry his weight up above the heads of the stormtroopers. 

Adrien wondered briefly what his ten meter baton looked like in the eyes of Star Wars characters when said baton was wrenched out of his grasp. He looked down in shock and saw his baton in the gloved hand of Darth Vader, now the size of a regular baton. Then he started falling. 

_He used the Force again!_ Adrien thought indignantly. _That’s so cheating._ He flailed in the air, and totally would’ve landed on his feet if it weren’t for the stormtroopers gathered below him. He landed in an undignified heap of stormtroopers. He lashed out wildly, but they literally piled on top of him until he could no longer see anything but white armor. 

When he could finally see again, he was flat on his stomach. At least three stormtroopers were sitting on him. and two more were forcing his arms together. They locked something metal—what he could only assume was the Star Wars equivalent of handcuffs—over his wrists, and then got off his back. 

Adrien struggled to his knees, but they kept him from fully standing up. “You could’ve,” he panted, “just _asked_.” He tried to wrench his arms free.

“You are not a Jedi?” Darth Vader pressed. Why couldn’t he just ask a question without looming threateningly over people?

“Uh, no,” Adrien answered. “I’m _purr_ fectly fine the way I am and I don’t think it’s _paw_ sible anyway–”

Darth Vader titled his head. Because of the helmet, Adrien couldn’t tell if the pun had gone right over Vader’s unfairly high head, or if he was just contemplating why Adrien insisted on adding to his impending death sentence.

Adrien chuckled nervously. He increased his attempts to escape, which in this case meant squirming even harder. “Actually, scratch that, wait I didn’t intend that pun, the puns just come naturally to me _pleasedon’tstrangleme_ forget I said that– _Cataclysm!_ ” He finally freed his arms long enough to throw himself to the floor. His hands hit the ground, and the ground crumbled to dust beneath them. 

The benefit of this was that he was no longer being piled on by stormtroopers. He also got to witness Darth Vader in shock, which was pretty satisfying. On the downside, Adrien was now freefalling with his hands still bound behind his back. He twisted his arms above his head and flipped forwards until he was plummeting head first for the loading dock beneath the hangar. Darth Vader straightened in the air, having released neither his lightsaber nor Adrien’s baton. Adrien had been counting on that. He forced his arms out just a little further and let the lightsaber slice through his binders. Then he threw himself into a neat roll that would’ve landed him on his feet if he hadn’t landed on the edge of a TIE fighter instead, fallen off, hit his head, and collapsed on the floor in a heap.

“Ow,” Adrien muttered. He shook the two halves of his former binders off his wrists. 

The stormtroopers clattered to the ground around him. One landed on him. “ _Ow_ ,” Adrien griped, this time with feeling. He shoved the guy off him and stumbled to his feet. “Astro Plagg, claws off.”

Green light flashed and Adrien’s suit disappeared. He staggered out of the pile of stormtroopers, not even pausing when Plagg emerged from the ring. 

The little kwami surveyed the destruction and sighed. “Normally, I would congratulate such an impressive display of entropy, but in this case I have to ask– _who_ is that?”

Darth Vader, the lucky soul, hadn’t landed on a TIE fighter, and as such was now standing right behind Adrien. Although his breathing didn’t change (obviously) and Adrien was admittedly not that great at picking up social cues, he had this _feeling_ that Vader wasn’t too pleased at the moment. Oh God. What if he was using the Force? _What if Adrien was actually a Jedi–_

“Your next attempt to escape shall not go as smoothly,” Vader promised, and grabbed Adrien by the collar of his shirt. His feet left the floor and dangled about half a foot from the ground. The mechanical hand twisted his shirt, limiting his breathing capacity. Plagg had disappeared, the little traitor.

“Okay!” Adrien gasped out quickly. At least Vader hadn’t gone for the Force-chokehold. Adrien didn’t know how to break out of _that._ His legs kicked futilely at the air. “No more escaping. Promise.”

Vader titled his head. “Good.” He didn’t let Adrien go. “What do you know of your father?”

Oh boy. Here it comes. Adrien sucked in a breath. “Anakin Skywalker? Not much. Just that he was a Jedi. That–” Did Adrien say what Luke knew and lie? Would he be able to tell? Should he sound angry or should he continue trying to placate the Sith? “–you killed him.”

“Lies,” Vader growled. His grip tightened even further and Adrien’s hands flew up in a desperate attempt to loosen his grip. He clearly didn’t realize that forcefully pressing against someone’s air pipe would effectively cut off their ability to breathe. “I did not kill your father.”

_Don’t say it–_

“ _I_ am your father,” Vader finished.

Adrien jerked his head frantically from side to side, trying to shake Vader’s grip. Why had no one ever warned him just how goddamn _possessive_ Vader could be? “I–” he wheezed.

“It is the truth,” Vader glowered, as if Adrien had been trying to deny it. “Do not–”

“ _I can’t breathe_.”

Vader actually looked at him then, or at least Adrien assumed he did, and dropped Adrien like a hot potato. He crumpled to the floor for what felt like the hundredth time in the past few minutes. He didn’t bother getting up this time, he just rubbed his throat. Without Chat Noir, Adrien was powerless anyway, and he’d have to feed his kwami before he transformed again. 

A very short but tense silence followed.

“Then you do not deny–”

“ _Oh my god,_ ” Adrien interrupted. He rubbed his throat again and winced. “Would you give it a _rest._ ” Somehow this actually stunned Darth Vader into silence, so Adrien plunged ahead. He was sick of this world, completely sick and tired after the scant few minutes he’d spent running around the Death Star. He just wanted to go home to Paris, to Ladybug and his real father who he saw once a month if he was lucky, who cared more about his personal assistant than he did his own son. 

_The only person I want to be my father even less than you is Hawkmoth,_ Adrien wanted to say. But given the number of times Adrien, not Chat Noir, had gotten hurt or put in harm’s way during akuma attacks, what really was the difference between them? At least Darth Vader had _tried._ Sure, he was evil and went around murdering people. He strangled his wife and mutilated his son, for Christ’s sake, but at least Luke had been his _enemy._ What sort of excuse could Hawkmoth have?

It didn’t matter, because he and Ladybug had already proved that Gabriel Agreste couldn’t possibly be Hawkmoth. Not to mention the fact that Adrien had been thrown off a building and turned into a statue by akumas in the past, and his father wouldn’t _do_ that. He _wouldn’t._

“I get it,” Adrien said dully. “You’re my father. But,” he continued, “you’re just…the _worst._ All you’ve done since you realized was throw me around and strangle me. That’s just the _worst_ parenting. Ever.” And the only reason Adrien was remotely okay with this was because he was beginning to suspect that his real father might be worse. “Like, you missed f–nineteen years of my life and this is how you respond? Really? Why not, ‘let’s go get something to drink and _talk_ about this?’”

A sudden burst of repressed anger bubbled up. Adrien stood up, finally, and jabbed a finger at Vader’s chest, the part that he guessed to regulate his breathing. So maybe he was being insensitive to a man who’d had his limbs chopped off and been set on fire, and now couldn’t breathe without a machine. Sue him.

“ _You_ don’t even have to do the drinking. _I_ can do all the drinking. I can drink all the drinks and you can give a long speech about how you wished you realized this nineteen years earlier but you’re gonna make up for it now, hell, maybe we can take a vacation to a nice island since work is not _always, always_ more important than your son who realizes that your work is important and demanding but would appreciate a _happy birthday_ on occasion, god forbid we eat _meals_ at the same time in the same room and have _actual conversations._ ”

Another pause, in which Vader was at a loss and Adrien rubbed his eyes and sniffled. This place was clearly not good for his allergies. Yeah. That’s why he was sniffling. 

“I…did not anticipate my actions to have such consequences,” Vader finally said, although it was clear he had no idea what was going on. If he didn’t need the respirator, Adrien would’ve heard a panicked _Force what do I do if he starts crying_ muttered quietly and very quickly, but instead all he got a mask and regulated sentences. “If you are no enemy of the Empire, then there–”

“And what if I am?” Adrien pressed. Maybe whined. A little. Maybe. 

“My loyalty to the Emperor–”

“Did you even wonder why I was helping the rebels? Or that I might not want to join the dark side of the Force? That I might want something beyond your vision of what my life should be?” What if he didn’t want piano lessons or Chinese lessons or fencing lessons or to be constantly modeling for his father’s company? “What if I wanted _you_ to leave the Empire? What if you had to choose? Would you–”

“Luke.” 

Adrien stopped talking, but he still clenched his fists and glared defiantly up at his father. “What.”

Slowly, Vader reached one hand out, like Adrien was a frightened animal who might jump at any sudden movements. Adrien squared his shoulders, held his best model posture, and refused to move. Vader patted Adrien on the shoulder in the most awkward, most humiliatingly stiff gesture of paternal affection Adrien had ever witnessed, and Adrien had _Gabriel Agreste_ for a father. 

“Perhaps,” Vader said haltingly, “we might,” he paused again. _Pat pat,_ went his hand. “Get something to drink and talk about this?”

Adrien blinked twice at his own words being thrown back at him and then laughed, because apparently Darth Vader had just startled him into laughter. The Sith didn’t seem to know how to take this and swiftly withdrew his hand.

“Yeah,” Adrien said hurriedly, before Vader could take it back. “That’d be…good.”

For a beautiful second, nobody moved and nobody spoke. Adrien could almost believe that everything was going to work out. Although he didn’t know how long he had left in the Star Wars universe, at least he and Darth Vader had worked out some sort of truce. 

A sharp jerking sensation in his stomach disabused Adrien of this notion. He doubled over, air leaving him in a whoosh. A second tug had him stumbling forward, trying to follow the direction of the tug. 

“Luke?” Vader caught him by his shoulders before he fell over. 

Adrien opened his mouth to say something, but a squeezing sensation took over his body and the world went black.

“ _Luke!”_

Adrien sat up. He looked over the streets of Paris from hundreds of feet in the air. His fingers felt metal underneath the fabric of his suit. 

“Chat Noir?” 

He turned to see Ladybug standing on the other end of the metal support beam of the Eiffel Tower they were on. Her face lit up with a relieved smile when he blinked at her. 

“What did I miss?”

Ladybug shrugged one shoulder. “Defeated Princess Protagonist. Are you okay? You disappeared for a second there.” She sat down next to him, legs dangling over the side of the Eiffel Tower.

Adrien turned to do the same and tentatively rested his head on her shoulder. “Yeah. I had a…pawesome adventure.”

“You went to a fantasy world?” Ladybug said knowingly. Her eyes lit up when he nodded. “Which one? Cats the movie? The Secret Life of Pets?”

“Ack!” Adrien waved his hands in front of his face as if he could disperse the mere mention of them. “You wound me, m’lady. I’ll have you know that I was in Star Wars–the original trilogy.”

“Really? Who were you then, Chewbacca?” She teased. 

“I was Luke Skywalker,” Adrien said, with less enthusiasm than he’d had at first.

“What happened?” Ladybug asked, noticing his mood change. “You weren’t there for a long time, were you?”

Adrien sighed and tried to focus on the fact that he was back in Paris now, fresh air on his face and trees in the distance. “Just a few minutes. I did use the space power-up, but all I did was swim in space for half a minute before I got pulled back inside.”

“Chaton!”

“Hey, I thought I was gonna fly in space, okay?” Adrien said defensively, but he could smile looking back on the memory now. “Oh, I also Cataclysm’d the Death Star.” 

“ _Chaton!”_ She pulled away to give him a half-hearted stern look. 

“ _Bugaboo!_ ” Adrien teased back, itching to take back his place by her side.

Ladybug huffed, but her smile was still affectionate. “Did you at least learn a previously undiscovered secret about your life?”

Adrien got quiet then, and leaned against Ladybug’s side, thinking of absentee fathers and a discussion that he really didn’t want to have but might need to. 

_Look on the bright side,_ he told himself. If they figured out who Hawkmoth was, that meant they were that much closer to defeating him, which meant that much closer to finally learning who each other was without fear of Hawkmoth getting the secret from them. That much closer to a happily ever after. 

“Yeah,” he said finally. “I think so. Maybe. We’ll see.” He stood up when Ladybug’s earrings beeped, quietly letting them know that they had one minute left. “See you later, Ladybug.”

-oOoOo-

“Will my father be joining me for dinner?”

Adrien knew the answer to that before the words even left his mouth, just like he had last time, and the time before that, and the time before that, and the previous hundred times before that.

“I’m sorry, Adrien,” Nathalie said, her face an expressionless mask as usual. “Your father is busy.”

Right. Adrien smiled thinly, lacking the usual vague disappointment. He didn’t bother sitting down. “In that case, can you pass on a message for me, Nathalie?”

“Of course, Adrien.” Her face didn’t change. She didn’t even look up from her tablet. He’d asked her to pass on hundreds of messages. _Can you tell him that I won?_

“I was just thinking lately,” Adrien said lightly, “about how glad I am that Father is not Hawkmoth.”

Nathalie looked up, and Adrien almost smiled. Finally, a reaction. Instead, he kept the wide, innocent look on–the mask he wore modeling, for his father’s sake. 

“Because if he _was_ Hawkmoth,” Adrien continued, “I’d probably be pretty pissed. No,” he mused, “I’d be mad. Mad enough to do something _wild,_ like stop showing up to photo shoots. Maybe mad enough to run away. Cause a scandal that the news would jump on.”

Adrien finally sat down at the dining table and picked up his fork. He didn’t eat. Nathalie watched him with wide eyes. “But of course, Father couldn’t possibly be Hawkmoth. So I’m glad.” He took a bite, and watched as Nathalie frantically started typing out a message. “And anyway, it’s not like Father is ever around to ask.”

Adrien leaned back in his chair, for once feeling more like Chat Noir than Adrien in his own house. In a wild, spur of the moment Chat-action, he casually rested his feet on the table. “Just make sure he gets the message, will you, Nathalie?”


End file.
